Page 16 of Glamour and Grit

“I’m not mad!” he snaps, but then he closes his mouth and lapses into silence. His green eyes grow thoughtful. He releases my clothing from his grasp and goes to the window. Dane drags the curtains closed, peering intently out a tiny crack before moving on to do the same in the rest of the house.

I take the wadded clothes out of the suitcase and pack more thoughtfully. He was giving me plenty of undershirts but not much else, for heaven’s sake.

“Whatever they want from you, it’s important.”

Dane comes into my bedroom just as I’m zipping up the suitcase. He’s trying to hide it, but I can read the tension in his body. Dane continuously glances at the windows as if expecting armed men to come crashing in at any second.

“What makes you say that?”

“They had to be watching this place, so they must have seen the police. They still made a move on you, despite the heat.”

“Is that why you’re on the verge of freaking out?”

He flinches, and hesitates just a moment too long before answering.

“I’m not on the verge of freaking out. I just want to get us out of here, quickly.”

He’s lying. If a badass SEAL sniper is worried, then I’m extra worried. I don’t dawdle any longer. With my suitcase stowed in the back, we take off toward the freeway.

“How long have you been doing this?” I ask.

“Doing what? Driving?”

I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“No, you dingbat, how long have you been doing this security gig?”

“It’s my first day.”

I wait for the punchline, but apparently he’s not making a joke.

“Wait, so this is really your first day? And you’ve already had to fight a masked gunman?”

He shrugs. “It’s nothing compared to Hell Week.”

“But someone just tried to kill you... How can you be so calm?”

“You get used to people trying to kill you after a while...”

A shudder travels through my body, enough to make my teeth chatter.

“I hope I never get to that point. No offense.”

“None taken.”

We drive in silence for a time. He’s a tough nut to crack. Dane plays his cards close to his chest. I feel compelled to try and draw him out anyway, and I have a feeling it will be good for him.

“So, Dane, how long have you been out of the service?”

“About forty-eight hours.”

“What?” I cock an eyebrow at him. “You just get out of the Navy, and your first move is getting into a bar fight and taking a job? I would have thought you’d be trying to get laid or something.”

The truck swerves slightly into the other lane. He quickly corrects our course and laughs anxiously.

“Yeah, well, nobody ever said I was the smart one in the family. Harlowe got all the brains, and I got all the brawn.”

My gaze snaps over to him and an incredulous snort forces its way out of my mouth. He glances over at me for a moment before looking back at the road.

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